Teach Me How To Love You
by BrazilianMafioso
Summary: It had started with a simple request. "Come with me. Teach me." How did it escalate to this?


I apologise... This chapter (ONLY) may seem OoC... OTL

* * *

The United States of America.

America.

Alfred F. Jones.

Alfred.

Him.

Why today.

Why today?

Why today of all days?

He had _so_ many documents to write up and complete by the end of the day.

So many documents that required much needed thought.

Much needed thought.

And focus.

Something that, even in his absence, the boy had crushed with a friendly yell.

_"Hey, Russia!"_

...Well, it had started with the yelling.

_"Russia, damn it! Stop ignoring me!"_

He would ignore him if he pleased.

_"Oh? Is that Belarus I see?"_

_ "Great! Glad to see I got your attention! Hey man, can you stop by on Friday? Dress sharp! Gotta go, see ya!"_

Friday? Dress sharp?

Like...

A date?

His pencil snapped, and his heart stopped for a minute.

And then fell out.

All over the papers.

"Damn..." Now, not only did he have blood on the documents, he had to _rewrite_ the documents.

Damn it, Alfred.

He glanced at the clock, noting the time. Twelve o' clock. Noon. A Thursday afternoon. The papers were not really due until Monday. "I suppose I could finish them later..." It seemed like a good time to take a break for vodka, anyway. Then, for some reason, his thoughts drifted to a certain American and his previous statements-

He had said Friday, right?

So if it was noon in Russia...

How long did it take a plane to reach America?

"Toris!"

The sound of silverware and cups clattering filled the air, followed by a disheveled Lithuanian entering the room. "Y-Y-Yes, Mr. Russia?"

"What does 'dress sharp' mean?"

Toris opened his mouth to answer, until he stopped and blinked a few times. "'Dress sharp?'"

"Da. It is very important, Toris."

"Erm..." The brunette bit his lip and looked as if he were thinking. "Well, when I, um, lived with America, he usually used that term when he wanted someone to wear a suit."

"I see... So I do not attach spikes to my sleeves?" Ivan asked with a sincerely puzzled look.

He waved his hands frantically. "No, no, no! Don't do that! Just wear a suit!"

The taller looked down and nodded.

Huh? "Mr. Russia? Is, um, something wrong?"

Ivan immediately looked up. "Nyet! Nothing, nothing is wrong..."

"Are you, by any chance, going to Mr. America's house?"

And then Ivan did something that Toris thought he would never see the man.

"Please! Oh please, Toris! I do not know what it is! Please tell me!"

What... Ivan had never been like this before... "What... What did Mr. America tell you?"

Averting his gaze, Ivan coughed to clear his throat. " '_Hey man, can you stop by on Friday? Dress sharp!_' "

At that, Toris couldn't help but laugh.

"What? What is so funny? Do inform me," Ivan said, 'kol kol kol's starting to surface.

Gulping with fear, Lithuania stopped himself quickly. Though, he couldn't help but laugh a little. "He's probably inviting you to a party."

"Inviting... Me... To a party..." A party?

"Yes, but it's a bit strange... I would think that you'd... well, that you'd be the last person he'd ask."

"I see..."

An awkward silence filled the room. One which a beeping from Russia's cell phone disturbed.

What could it be now?

He flipped open his phone. A text?

_Text from: Alfred_

_ Yo! What's up? I thought you were coming over._

He quickly punched in a few keys and shut the phone, but it started beeping again two seconds later.

_Text from: Alfred_

_ Dude, in America (which you should all set your clocks to) it's Friday morning. I expected you here a week ago._

* * *

_Text from: That Vodka-Swigging Commie Bastard_

_ It's Thursday._

Alfred shook his head.

Oh Russia. Russia, Russia, Russia.

"You really need to fix your clock to read American time," he said out loud as he typed. Sent.

_Text from: That Vodka-Swigging Commie Bastard_

_ Of course. Please forgive me. _

"Yeah, sure."

_Text from: That Vodka-Swigging Commie Bastard_

_Did you not sense the sincerity in my voice? Oh wait, your stupidity does not allow that. Before you start insulting my _past_ mistakes (though, I really do think all should become one with Russia, da?), let me inform you that I am arriving on the next plane to your pitiful country._

"Oh, quite the long message from Russia. Can't believe I got that out of him!" If he could clone himself, he'd give himself a high-five. He was just that amazing.

Getting up from the couch, he made his way to his own room and then to the closet. He opened it and pulled out a suit from inside.

Staring at it with a slightly annoyed look, he sighed. "Why the hell did I invite _him_ of all people... Toris would be so much better for this..."

He sighed again. For some reason, whenever Alfred had thought of anyone for this, the first person he thought of was Russia...

* * *

**Gosh, I'm so sorry this is a crappy first chapter... BUT I PROMISE IT GETS BETTER. THERE'S THIS WHOLE PART WHERE THEY END UP-**

**Ricardo: *slaps hand over her mouth* QUIET. SPOILERS.**

**Arielle: *blinks* Mm, ah shee... 'Nd, c'n ah t'k n'w? (Translation: I see... And can I talk now?)**

**I'm on a posting roll, today! X3**

**Ricardo: She should be updating stories she already has =A=**

**...All right, so yeah... This gets more serious and stuff in the next chapter... I had it written already, and I realised I wanted a chapter before it... So please forgive the rushed-ness of this... **

**Please review if you have any question, concerns, or comments. Thank you, and- Oh! I forgot to mention...**

**DID YOU NOTICE SOMETHING? SOMETHING ABOUT THE RATING, HM?**

**OH. DID YOU SEE IT?**

**DID YOU SEE THAT IT IS THE LETTER M?**

***cannot contain her joy that she, for some reason, has***

**And with that, I am pleased to say this story is brought to you by the letter M.**

**Sorry for this rant... OTL**


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